A “monstrous baby whom none dared gainsay” – so writes Robert Bolt of Henry VIII in the introduction to his 1960 play. The “man for all seasons” of its title is Thomas More, presented by Bolt in just one of his aspects (– in contrast with the portrayal of More in the BBC’s adaptation of Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy: “a hero of selfhood”, one who did gainsay his king.
As in Shakespeare, this is not so much a history as a morality play, substituting real people for allegorical abstractions to add layers of complexity and ambiguity. For this reason it seems to me a shame that Simon Higlett’s design fastens the action to its time, giving us a magnificent, Tudor-style, panelled-wood set and dressing actors in period costumes. These particularities mask the fact that the focus of the drama is a dilemma not defined by time or place: what course of action is open to an individual who believes in the law when their head of state defies the law?
Martin Shaw’s finely tuned More is credible both as fallible human and as hero – loving to family and friends, exasperated by fools and villains, lawyerly in his discretion, firm in his adherence to conscience (well-known to television audiences as Judge John Deed, Shaw previously played More on stage in 2006). In his brief appearance as Henry VIII, Orlando James embodies the king’s terrifying combination of lightness and charm radiating from a core of vicious self-will.
The strength of Jonathan Church’s patchy production lies in the clarity of the presentation of the workings of a perverted power through ambitious individuals, such as the machiavellian Thomas Cromwell (Edward Bennett splicing corruption with fear) and in its engaging presentation of narrator figure, the Common Man (Gary Wilmot’s performance perfectly pitched), talking the audience through the scenes and embodying the underlings, unnamed by history, who get by as best they can.
• A Man for All Seasons is touring the UK until 15 March
